Veracity
by The Duelist's Heiress
Summary: Veracity-something veracious; a truth. Truths are meant to be told, but yet, some just can't be told easily. Mhera has just that problem, and it is anything but easy.
1. The Truth Untold

**DH AN: **This is a story that was originally conceived as a Oneshot in response to the reader's shock at there was no argurment between Marik and Mhera in Chapter Twenty (Prologue inclusive), but I got ideas for later developments so this is now a new story, **Veracity. **It uses the **30 Nights Prompt:**Telling you the truth, and the **30 Gens Prompts: **Eye color, Argument, War and peace.

**AN 2: Timeline:** About four months after my oneshot **Alone With Amethyst & Steel. Chapter POV: **Mhera 1st person

**AN 3: Veracity-**something veracious; a truth.

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**Chapter One: The Truth Untold**

I stopped at the door wishing I was in any, absolutely any, other hallway. I elected to come of my own choosing, and that was what perturbed me the most. Actually he had requested to see me, but I was told that I could come at any time. Something told me that now was _not _the best time. I hesitantly knocked on the door, hearing nothing on the other side. I slowly opened the door, and almost leapt three feet back when the voice of my father was at the iciest I had ever heard it.

"I have made it quite clear that I am not to be disturbed!" His voice almost forced me back another foot. I leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, my skin pale as ivory. I heard footsteps softly come then cease behind me. I stared almost inadvertently into my father's icy amethyst eyes.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" I ask quietly, the fear showing in my voice. He looked at me with a slightly softer gaze. I had obviously chosen a poor time to enter.

He almost pursed his lips in what looked like disapproval. "Yes, Mheralo; I did." He glanced toward the door, cocking his head in the same direction. "Come." His voice was much softer than it was at first. I followed him silently into the office, taking the seat closest to the door, which then shut behind me. There was no getting out now.

My father came around to the desk, taking his seat in the chair behind the gargantuan sized piece of mahogany furniture. "I want you to do something for me." He placed a filled out promotion duel request form on the desk in front of me. I soured as I read who had requested the duel.

"You can't expect me to duel Noinreil, not again." I was sure to emphasize the displeasure in my voice.

"I do." He responded quickly.

"It was only luck that allowed us to pull that off last time. Do you really think-" I was cut off there.

"As I stated before, Mheralo; I do." My father said icily.

I only remembered then that I hadn't told him what really happened those months ago and the mistake I made. Dueling Noinreil would only make me relive the fear that I had instilled in myself that night. But some reason prevented me from doing so. I could not point it out to myself, let alone my father.

"Mheralo?" My father's voice brought me out of my reverie. "Tell me why you won't duel him again." I didn't answer. His voice hardened. "I said tell me."

"No." I stated softly.

"Why?" He asked again.

"It's none of your concern!" I snapped.

"It is, Mheralo." His voice was soft and convicting.

"No, it isn't." I stated. It was true; the feelings I had for Sheonel Yagasawi were not of his concern now. He was sent away at my accidental request, and even though I was forgiven for it, I felt faint traces of guilt course through me.

I swear my father had picked up on something from me in regards to Sheon with his next statement. "Is it about what happened with Yagasawi?"

I tensed, preparing to lie through my teeth, or more specifically, for what would follow that lie. "No, it doesn't concern him."

He looked at me coldly; his eyes freezing me where I was, thus living up to the remarks I had heard about the color amethyst; that it was cold, beautiful and easily able to freeze one where they stood. "I think that if I told you to duel Yagasawi, your response would be the same." He stared me straight in the face. "But, dear one, would your reasons be the same as for which you won't duel Nashin?"

"Yes." I responded, knowing that I had lied yet again. My face must have flushed with a splash of the usual red of embarrassment, or in this case I was thinking about how sweet and caring Sheon was. (and may be still)

"You like him, even after what HE DID TO YOU?" My father's voice echoed within the office.

"He…" I wanted to defend Sheon, for he had done nothing to me, and I refused to hear him be accused anymore, but I couldn't bring myself to say what I should have months ago. Shaking silently, I spat out my current thought out loud before it, or its effects, crossed my mind. "How did she ever choose you?" I paled as the true meaning of my words hit both my father and I like a load of bricks. I dared a glance at him. He was heaving almost violently, leaning against the desk for support. His gaze was on the desk, and then it was turned on me. I had never seen it before, it was a gaze of hurt, and fury; two emotions that are best kept separate.

He came around the desk at a slow pace, grabbed my shoulders and wretched me to where I was facing him. His face was minutely tear stained. "How dare you say something like that…" he sobbed softly, then bellowed "HOW DARE YOU!" He raised his hand with intent to strike me. I closed my eyes when it was imminent.

The strike never came. I watched him for five seconds, not knowing what was racing through his head. I watched his hand lower, and the rest of him soon follow. "Get out." He stated softly. I didn't move until he stared me in the eyes, bellowing "I SAID GET OUT, MHERALO!"

I left, shutting the door almost softly behind me.

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**DH: **This was going to be a Oneshot, but ideas for more chapters just came to me, so it is now its own story. Please review.


	2. Silent Pain

**DH AN: **Here is Chapter Two of **Veracity. **Yes, I am really mean to Marik here, but I need to be emotionally mean to my characters at points. Please enjoy **Chapter Two: Silent Pain.**

** POV: **Marik Third person

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**Chapter Two: Silent Pain**

"How did she ever choose you?" Mheralo Ishtar's voice almost softly snaked through the room as she stared Marik in the face. Almost immediately after the words had left her lips, she started going pale. The phrase seemed to just hang in the air. Marik started to heave his breaths violently, leaning greatly on the desk for support.

_Those words,…How dare she say that…_ Marik was gripping the mahogany desk so hard that his knuckles were slowly going white. Tears were slowly taking routes down his face. _HOW DARE SHE! _He was hurt emotionally, and, for him, often times fury was the companion of hurt; this time it was no different. He saw himself in the reflection that the glass topped desk showed, and it almost scared _him. _

Marik glared at Mhera so intently that she went a little whiter. He stepped from behind the desk, trying so hard to keep what little composure he had left from slipping away.

He took one step. _How could she say that?_

Two._ Why?_

Three and four. _Does she not know how it hurts to even mention the one who saved me from my solitude?_

Five steps. He had returned back to his original thought. _How dare she say that… __How dare she! _

Mhera was now to the side of him and within easy reach. He wrested her so that she was facing him. He sobbed at her softly. "How dare you say that…" Marik was trying to control his imminent outburst, but it was to no avail. "HOW DARE YOU!" He bellowed.

The next thing he knew, his right hand was within striking distance. He knew it was shaking, but it was so minute that he couldn't even see it. _I can't… I won't…but I can, and I want to do this so badly, but what would the cost be?_ One look at Mhera stopped his thoughts.

Marik felt his hand slowly drop to his side, and the rest of him soon follow until he was on his knees on the floor. "Get out." He stated softly. After a few moments he looked to find that Mhera was still there. "I SAID GET OUT, MHERALO!" He bellowed like a wounded dog. He heard the door shut softly as Mhera made her hasty exit.

Marik still was on the floor for a few moments more, his breaths still shaking. He staggered to the desk, grabbing it almost madly for support. He stood from the floor with his hands spread over the desktop, leaning on it heavily. He panted softly, unconsciously sobbing when he inhaled. But the sobs were for another reason than those before. _I almost struck her…my god, I almost struck her. I almost struck her… physically. _

There was a difference. There are such things as emotional wounds; so who was he to think there were not things as emotional strikes as well. He knew he had stepped slightly too far when he brought Yagasawi into the conversation.

_But that was no reason for her to say that__. _He mentally scoffed, and yet, the more he thought about it, the more he considered the fact that the comment may have just come out. _That would explain why she went pale as soon as she said it. _He paled. "What have I done?" He sobbed. He clenched his fists so hard that as soon as he released them, he saw the impressions of his nails on the palm side of his hands.

He then eyed the paper on the desk, almost wanting the paper to burn under the weight of his gaze. No, he wouldn't make her duel, but something about this whole ordeal seemed to trace itself back to one event, an event that he knew there was another side to, and he needed to find out.

Marik knew where Mhera would be; it would be surprising if she was not still in the lower corridors. And he knew exactly where to start his search. He exited his office, then the hallway, shutting the doors behind him. He then went to a door that was diagonally to his right. He slowly turned the knob and opened the door.

Marik's eyes caught Mhera sitting under the seven year oak tree. _Where this deception began. _He thought as he saw the huge boughs of the tree that symbolized the unending love that would never die. He stepped towards her, his steps purposefully slow paced, and as light as he could make them, but his boots still made crunching sounds that gave him away.

He watched her just sit there under the tree, oblivious to the noise. So silent, very silent. He stepped slowly towards the base of the tree, and sat calmly beside her. He then put his arms around her in a manner that could be considered and yet not considered a hug. He just needed to hold someone, and he thought she needed someone to hold her. And it was what they needed most at that point to be helped through both their silent pain.

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**DH: **Next chapter will join Mhera from where she exits the office. I hope this was an okay chapter. Please review. On another note, this line "my god, I almost struck her," is meant to be just a shock driven line, nothing else was meant by that.


	3. Silent Tears

**DH AN:** I have another update for Veracity. This starts after Mhera leaves the office. In this chapter, you will know almost everything about the event before** Alone With Amethyst & Steel.** Please enjoy **Chapter Three: Silent Tears. **Oh, wow a Phantom reference already.

**POV:** Mhera first Person POV

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**Chapter Three: Silent Tears**

I ran from the office, frightened by my father's sorrow and fury rather than the fact that he almost struck me. I hit the right side of the wall, but brushed it off, it didn't bother me. Something told me to just get out of that hallway as soon as I could, and it wasn't the fact that my father had told me to; though that was a _helpful_ hint. He was so morose, and …it frightened me. I latched onto the door, almost flinging it off its hinges as I opened it.

I closed the door, aware that I was panting. Tears started to crowd my eyes, and made routes down my cheeks. I quickly went to the door diagonally right of me, sighing out of relief to be at my destination.

I knew the oasis was where I needed to be; it was the calming place that could only aid my coping with my father's outburst. I went and sat under the tree, trying to tie my mangled thoughts together.

What started this whole mess? The duel. What was my problem; it would be relatively easy to defeat Noinreil. And yet it wouldn't, because that rotten scoundrel who had truly almost harmed me had used my confusion to his benefit. I'd never forgive myself for it.

_**Flashback**_

I was coming from the dueling arena, mentally exhausted. I was worried that I wasn't going to be able to pull a completely silent duel off, let alone win. But I only won by a slim margin. It was by only three hundred points. Pretty soon I had gotten myself lost in the nebulous halls of these corridors, hitting a dead end.

"Get lost again, Arlomhe?" A cold voice asked. I quickly recognized it as my former opponent's voice. The voice continued, "Did you enjoy the duel?"

"No." I lied. "That duel was too close."

The person behind me lowered their hood only to reveal a cold stare from the steel gray eyes of Noinreil. "I agree. That card shouldn't have been in _your _hand." Noinreil spat the pronoun out with distaste

"My- but I wasn't dueling-" I tried to give myself a decent alibi. I almost screamed as he pushed me against the wall with a dark grin on his face as he looked at my hands.

"I was talking about these hands. I know the difference between yours and the master's." He laughed softly

I paled. Surely if he could tell the difference between the hands stated above then surely he saw the similarities as well. And Noinreil was the last person I wanted to discover that secret. I was brought out of my shock by a physical one. I winced as Noinreil threw me against the wall, and held me there.

"_Someone help" _I mentally pleaded as my vision began to blur. My breath caught in my throat as I heard someone come quicker than I thought humanly possible.

"Let her go, Noinreil." A voice almost hissed. I opened my eyes to see Noinreil being pulled back by another hood wearing individual. But I knew that voice anywhere. It was Sheon. He threw Noinreil against the wall, and rushed to my side, while Noinreil was still recovering.

Lowering his hood, he gently stroked my cheek. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

"Ye- Look out!" I yelled as I saw Noinreil come at Sheon from behind. Sheon twisted slightly an caught one of the oncoming assaults, but was unable to catch both and got hit in the stomach. In the recoil the hood had slipped back over his head, and he and Noinreil both switched sides three times. I closed my eyes as I heard footsteps come into the same hallway.

When I opened my eyes, there were three hooded individuals and I was very confused by it. The newest hooded individual came and took a look at my face. "Are you alright" he then whispered the last two words so that only I could hear. "Miss Mhera?" I could only nod yes. He then stood to face Noinreil and Sheon. "Which one of you did this?" The man eyed the two boys.

"It was him!" They both shouted simultaneously, pointing at each other.

The third one put a hand to his head out of annoyance. He then noticed me pointing at the one on the right. The man hesitated, giving me a doubtful look. I only continued to point at the robed figure on the right; the one closest to me.

_**End of Flashback**_

Tears started down my face. How could I have been so foolish?

I felt hands place themselves around me gently. I did not push them away; that was what I needed most at that moment. One of those hands then started to stroke my hair lovingly.

"You're troubled." A soft cold voice stated. I opened my eyes, and saw my father. He hesitated. "What troubles you?"

"It's nothing that you can help me with…" I stated softly.

"Mheralo, does it have anything to do with that incident four months ago?" I was a little shocked that he didn't use Sheon's last name in reference to the event this time.

I nodded.

"I have only heard one side of this event, from Nashin." He looked in my face. "I need to hear it from you…please."

I nodded slightly, and began my side of the event, thankful that my father was there to hold me every time I shook out of fear.

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**DH: **Well, this will be my last planned update for this story. I'll update **Jeweler **next; and possibly **Powers Revealed** after that. I don't know when I will update after those. Please review.


	4. Understood Request

**DH AN: **Here is another Chapter of **Veracity.** I've done the hurt and now it's time for the comfort. Enjoy **Chapter Four: Understood Request. **There are Phantom references in here, big surprise?

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**Chapter Four: Understood Request**

"I continued to point to the one on the right, the one closest to me." Mhera almost sobbed quietly as she finished her rendition. Marik stroked his daughter's hair with a father's touch, but while his heart was in the right place; his mind was elsewhere.

_It's because of my outburst that these memories choose to haunt her now. My facial expression held no horror for her compared to the memories brought about by this. _Marik inadvertently balled his hands into fists, pressing his fingernails into his palms again, though not as hard as before.

He grimaced. At first he thought he knew the whole scenario, but now that he had another account… he felt like a fool, as he would put it. Given the way those two boys acted when brought into his office, one would have thought Noinreil the rescuer and Sheon the assailant, and he had fallen for it, hook line and sinker. In retrospect Marik should have known something was up.

He thought about how the Yagasawi boy was so quiet and didn't even try to defend himself while Noinreil was "telling" about the events that transpired in the hallway. Why he ever believed Noinreil, who honestly could not duel, or lie for that matter, as well as some of the others, was probably a result of the shock at the news that Arlomhe Sharti had been cornered in the halls, and thrown against the wall. _But why didn't Yagasawi say anything? If he could have defended his actions why didn't he? _Marik closed his eyes, setting his chin into his hands, pondering the questions in his head, yet finding no answer.

He couldn't seem to answer a single plaguing question. Once again his mind drifted to the subject that began this issue. His request of Mhera to duel Noinreil. The fact of what happened after the duel ignored, it was a very close match. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her duel since then, and that had been about four months ago. He had to have been ignoring something, because he usually had her duel at least once a month, to see whether or not strategies and cards were constantly repeated or used in the same predicaments.

But maybe it was time for a different type of analysis. The style of critique he used was more oriented towards strategy, but now, a different style of study was needed, one that was based on the physical reactions of a duelist when certain moves were played, or, a duelist's mentality, After all, strategic analysis could only tell so much; and he was certain that strategies, or a lack of them, was not a problem for Mhera.

This would be an interesting prospect, indeed.

He heard movement. Soft steps were retreating from the tree. With his eyes still closed, he reached for the opportunity _"Wait, Mheralo." _The footsteps ceased. She was listening, Marik knew that much. He opened his eyes in anticipation of a reaction to his coming statement. _"I have something to do that concerns you." _He watched and waited for the reaction that would never come; He stood from his spot under the tree, heaving a somewhat heavy sigh. _"And I am sorry I yelled at you."_

A soft voice replied, _"You had right to." _The feminine voice paused, then spoke. "I overstepped my boundaries, and I apologize."

Marik gently took Mhera by the hand. "Come, we must return to where this whole thing started."

Mhera gave him a quizzical look. "But aren't we here already?"

Marik smiled, "Glad you're thinking outside the box, but that isn't what I meant. That duel I asked you about is what I referred to." He gave Mhera an almost pleading look. "I ask you again, though this time with a bit more understanding; will you duel Nashin?"

"I will, but you should know that I haven't dueled in about four months." Mhera sighed

Marik corrected her. "Truth be told, you haven't dueled since your match with Nashin." He set his hand on her shoulder, his second dialogue calmly reassuring her. "You won't be going into this right now; you forget that I schedule the promotion duels myself, and I won't let you do this until you're ready, and you and I both know that the time isn't now." He stopped, "Do you have your deck with you?"

Mhera only nodded in response, and they made their way back to the office.

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**DH: **For the "Glad you're thinking outside the box," quote to make sense, Marik thought something in chapter two that relates to it, or recall chapter eighteen of **Powers Revealed **(Prologue not counted as chapter one)

Now, there were terms that I introduced here that will not be mentioned repetitively, but will be used a good deal, adhering to the definitions coined by yours truly. All duels before this point in the timeline are assumed to be written in the **Strategic analysis **format (Play by play with attention to the cards, points etc.) The new **Duel Mentality** format is facial expression and physical reaction analysis with limited attention to maneuvers, points, strategies etc. Any duel with Marik in the scene, as a duelist or spectator, is liable to expression in this format, but more than likely I will use a bit of both formats.

Sorry I got a little technical there. Please review.


	5. Reprieve And Reactions

**DH AN:** I am back with another chapter of **Veracity. **Watch for a slight reference to chapter one, and a couple of **Phantom References **hidden in here. It shouldn't be surprising by now. Please enjoy **Chapter Five Reprieve And Reactions.**

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**Chapter Five Reprieve And Reactions**

The two entered the office, Mhera once more taking the seat closest to the door in a rather swift manner. Marik however, took his time getting to his seat. He looked Mhera over, and while he wasn't exactly pleased with what he saw, he was satisfied at the decision to analyze this duel differently. He grasped her hand gently, paling slightly as he felt Mhera pull her hand out of his. She was extremely pale as she spoke. Her voice was so soft to a point where he could hear the lack of confidence in it. "I'm not ready…to even try…please…Father, I'm frightened,- don't make me do this."

Marik placed his hands on Mhera's shoulders in the same manner that he had in the oasis. Slowly, gently, the gesture changed. His face was right near her ear, and his arms were protectively around her frightened frame. His voice was so soft and comforting, but it still had a slight edge of frustration to it. "My Mheralo; don't think that I don't care , but you alone will determine how you fare." Marik looked her in the eyes, his voice gaining more edge. "I know you aren't ready; we both know that." His voice was now firm with any trace of softness gone. "But I refuse to let you succumb to this fear of inability."

Mhera swiftly stood from her seat, and forcefully grabbed Marik by the shoulders, bringing him down to her eye level. Her face showed both fury and fear, two emotions that did not combine well. The words came out in a whispered sobbing hiss. "Make no mistake, it is not a fear of failing myself." She began to shake, "But a fear of my opponent."

Marik gently stroked his daughter's wan face, uttering a softly reassuring, "You have nothing to fear from me." He had a nagging feeling she wasn't referring to him though.

"I don't mean you!" Mhera snapped in the same whispered sobbing hiss. She sank to her knees, shaking with fear. "Noinreil… he could tell that those were my hands dueling…I-if he can tell the difference-" Her next words were almost inaudible. "He can see the similarities."

If Marik had no knowledge of the other side of the story, he would have dismissed it as unimportant, but he made a sideward glance to the hand that now gripped Mhera's clenched fist, oddly enough; it was the hand with which he almost struck her. He soured at that thought. But as he slowly coaxed her fist to open, he saw the similarities, and the differences. Beside the obvious size difference, his daughter's hands were delicate, and trusting. His were tougher, and not as trusting. But she had his piano fingers, long and slender, and they were somewhat proportional in size. He closed his eyes, smiling slightly at the thought of the soft, delicate hands that his daughter possessed; a trait of his beloved that he cherished ever since he first held them. He never fully admitted the feelings he had and regretted it now. A tear trickled down his cheek against his protesting mind's pleas to not let it fall. But the tear did not fall on his hand, but on another's.

"You loved her." The soft voice sighed as their hand retreated from his, and the door softly shut, leaving Marik alone, alone to ponder the statement of true veracity that his daughter spoke.

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**DH: **Okay, sorry if it got a bit schmaltzy there, but I was in my element. And I hid a huge spoiler for **Jeweler **in here. Okay, maybe not so well hidden, but it's there. Please review.


	6. In Pursuit of A First Truth

**DH AN: **Well, I have another chapter of **Veracity** done. Although most of this may seem like rehash from **Memoirs of May, **and **Healing Presence, **it is so different when taken into context. You might want a box of tissues for this one. Please enjoy **Chapter Six: In Pursuit of A First Truth**.

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**Chapter Six: In Pursuit of A First Truth**

Marik breathed heavily, taking his seat behind the desk. He brought himself to look at his reflection in the glass top of the desk. With his eyes full of sorrow and face etched with realization; it dawned on him that he never realized that, while he had done the tasks needed to allow him that first step away from solitude, he never flat-out admitted to his beloved, in plain language, that she was so.

Not that he _**hadn't **_said or shown he loved her, but it was never simply communicated, always it was said as if it were in one of his notes. He smiled slightly; if his daughter were still in the room, he would have corrected her statement, that 'he loved her' was inaccurate; he had love for his Filiron still.. He loved her for saving him from his solitude, but was continuing to love her for giving him so much in her last moments.

Although he had already done so the previous May, Marik carefully stepped out of the office and into the oasis. He sighed as he carefully selected a lily from the bush. It was by no means the biggest, but its petals were soft and delicate and the plant did not droop in his hands. He smiled, finally understanding why the other Jewel in the combination adored the white blooms so much. He sighed as his somber expression returned to his face. With an endearing glance at the lily bush then to the Seven-year Oak, he left the oasis.

Marik released another sigh as he closed the door to the oasis and opened another door on his left. When he entered the hall, both his steps and thoughts became slow with purpose, focused on one thing, a chance for reflection and atonement for the opportunities never taken. Marik bore the feeling of his lack of veracity incessantly in the back of his mind, the fact usually only brought to the forefront of his mind on every third of May. Yet here he was, half a year after May, on account of a half-true statement from his daughter.

But his dear Mheralo had prompted another question, albeit one uttered out of vexation rather than spite. Marik smirked quickly. _It's a very good question, "How she chose me?" _The smirk vanished. _But alas, it is one that I cannot answer truthfully._

By this time, Marik had reached his destination, and only a step and a door stood in his way. He took the step he should have taken years before, but refused to open the door with haste that would have met any other knob in the corridors. He gently turned the knob after ten seconds. This was part of his ritual, one of the only he wished to remember. He stepped into the room, slowly shutting the door behind him. He stepped forward to see the words he had forced himself to carve in stone years earlier.

Marik had forced himself to do this, not because his beloved was undeserving of a professional, but because Filiron Rylae deserved the loving words that only he could use, and hold the significance needed. He loved the way his beloved's maiden name felt on his tongue. The several "Miss Rylae"s he had used came back to his mind all at once, with a somewhat nostalgic air. Perhaps that was why it was his dear Mheralo's middle name now.

Marik set the lily at the base before looking to the words carved on the stone clearly enough that he could read them. Now, the carvings were not by any means done with an inexperienced hand, but When Marik gazed upon them, the sorrow from eight years prior was evident by the numerous jerked stops from the pick he had used; the stops from moments of deep grief and sorrow. But even with the sorrow that showed itself, the message carved was as clear as day.

"**Rest in peace where you belong, where your loved ones long gone wait. But know that while I remain here, you shall always remain my beloved; a wife, a mother, and my rescuer… farewell, my beloved Filiron Rylae, forevermore."**

Marik started to weep quietly as he read the last line, for this was his first statement of veracious admittance; a result of deep grief. He had found his first truth.

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**DH:** Anyone else feel like weeping with him other than me? I think this has earned a spot on a list of moments that want to bring me to tears. Please review…


	7. Dry Ice

**DH AN: **I'm back with another chapter of **Veracity. **The story takes a slightly darker turn here, but enjoy **Chapter Seven: Dry Ice.**

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**Chapter Seven: Dry Ice**

I walked out of the office, unsure of my decided tentative match with Noinreil, as neither I nor my father was ready to start conditioning. There was one other who could help me, but I hadn't seen Odion in a few days. I wish he was home; he calms my father better than I can. I smiled slightly. Some would say that he is _like _a second father; I feel the need to disprove that notion…he _is_ my second father.

I dug my hands further into my pockets, not realizing that I was going deeper into the lower corridors than I ever intended or wanted to. I was so buried in my thoughts that I failed to notice I was being followed by the one who frightened me more than my father ever could.

I kept walking until I tired from the combination of cold and fatigue. Leaning against a wall seemed like such a good inviting idea… I only would rest for a second.

But that second changed everything.

My hands were pinned behind my back in half a second, and tied together with very strong twine. I mentally berated myself at the fact that the telepathic bond with my father wasn't as strong as it could be. It was only good for a yard's distance at most. By reading the diary that my mother had left in care of my father, I knew that the bonds of telepathy could carry across oceans. I don't think he had ever thought of it as an asset, but it would be; should he decide to ever let me travel away from his watchful eye.

My thoughts were halted as a tan hand clasped itself firmly, in domination, over my mouth. It wasn't a suggestion that I keep quiet, but an order. My eyes darted from side to side to attempt an escape from my captor's strong grip. If I were to escape, it would no doubt be so fear-driven that I wouldn't get far. I was gripped harder than necessary on that all too familiar pressure point on my shoulder, and everything went black.

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When my eyes fluttered open, they were immediately shutting soon after. It was as if one of my non-foreshadowing (at least, that is what I thought at the time) dreams had come to pass. This one…was a nightmare. The cold steel-gray eyes of Noinreil Nashin had a glare of both disdain and overconfidence, but no remorse, within them. He sauntered toward me, a small disk of metal in his hand. I was certain he was very tempted to flick the projectile at my unprotected face. But instead, he calmly placed it in his pocket. He grinned that dark, feral grin; the one that was in the memory that was frantically pulsing in the back of my head, in time with the fast fearful thumping that was my heartbeat.

His wild smirk was quickly replaced by a look of fraudulent sympathy. "Oh how sad, my dear Arlomhe, that no one is going to save you now. Not Yagasawi, not the master, not even your family; you are most likely hoping for your father to rescue you." I minutely tensed at how very close he was to discovering the deception that was implemented two years earlier. He continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper and reaching my ears. "No one will be able to save you from my…proposal." Noinreil hesitated before saying the last word, driving my already fear-driven heart rate slightly higher.

"What proposal?" I breathed; half eager to rip what was left of his dueling dignity to irrecoverable shreds, but more fearful of facing him again and for my own safety.

"I thought you would never ask." Noinreil snickered darkly, eyes laughing mirthlessly at my position. I shuddered as he continued. "We will have a duel, and if you win, you go free, without question."

I waited mutely for his prize in the proposed match, should he win.

It came, "If I win…I won't give thought to releasing you, as that willfulness of yours is quite a problem, until I have robbed you of it completely."

I blanched, feeling the pallor come to my face swiftly. I did not want to find out how he intended to do that. Even though I did not think myself willful, it did not sit well with me.

His voice shattered the semi-calm reflection that was the mirror of my thoughts. "If you have no further questions, our duel will commence promptly."

"I refuse!… I refuse…" I yelled the first one, but the second one was quieter.

"Then, I have something to show you" He stepped aside to reveal a block of ice with steam wafting off of it in very visible amounts, or at least I thought it was steam.

"Dry ice." Noinreil murmured, removing the metal disk from his pocket once more, "It is so cold that it removes any and all heat energy from most objects, even metal."

Without any further explanation, he thrust the disk into the chunk of ice. I watched as the coin vibrated, paling when it ceased, as I saw that it was covered in a thin layer of ice. Movement jerked my attention away from the dry ice, my eyes catching Noinreil producing a thick gray rope from a dark corner of the room.

"Should you refuse to duel, this rope will be to you what dry ice was to that disk." He stated what I already knew. "You will be robbed of your will power and your energy, nothing but a shell of your former self." He was obviously unimpressed at my straight face. "Do you still refuse?" He asked tersely.

"Yes." My answer was softly resolute.

"Your choice, my dear Arlomhe." I wanted so badly to break his jaw for addressing me as 'my dear', but since I was quite literally disarmed, I settled for a heated glare. It did little except bring the hated feral smirk back to his face.

As he bound me with the energy-sapping rope, I hoped that something, someone… would find me. As I closed my eyes at the dull pain, I saw only a pair of grey-green eyes.

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**DH:** I have wanted to use the idea of some kind of rope being a slight weakness for Mhera. I've mentally toyed with a lot of ideas, the most interesting being the complete cancellation of her powers, and this one. The stuff is no ordinary rope either; it has requirements to be undone. Those will be revealed in the later chapters. This chapter is to set up for my ending of this story. That last line references an occurance in my One Shot, **Phantoms at Midnight.**


	8. Broken

**DH AN: **I am back with another chapter of **Veracity. **Please enjoy **Chapter Eight: Broken. **Yes, it has a double meaning.

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**Chapter Eight: Broken**

Marik, kneeling and somber, spent a while longer at _her _grave. Tearstains were evident on his face, not that he cared to hide them. His shoulders were slightly hunched and his chin touched the top of his chest. He was absolutely still, a bit of a feat for him when alone. His bangs had fallen into his eyes, but this too went uncorrected.

Releasing a soft sigh, Marik calmly removed a tile, under which a note from his beloved was hidden. He set aside the tile, placing it to the right of the hole. Unfolding the fourthly folded note gently, one thing was clear; he still loved her. After reading the note twice over, Marik quietly folded it back into its former fourths and placed it gently in the hole. He let a small smile cross his face. The effect her handwriting had on him was easily traced back to a first note, which he had buried in a desk drawer somewhere. He still saw those delicate facets of the other piece of that perfect fated combination.

Marik retrieved the tile, only to notice that a crack was taking form in the center. He made a mental note to bring a replacement the next time he was down here. Looking at it, first absent-mindedly, a memory was slowly returning to him.

_**Flashback**_

Marik had finished doing the minimal amount of dishes an hour and a half before checking on how his daughter was doing with her task. He had her checking the hall tiles for cracks. He padded almost silently through the kitchen, until he knocked one of the drying dishes over, causing a loud noise as it broke at his feet. His expression soured slightly when he saw that it was one of his tan coffee mugs.

His thoughts were interrupted as a frighteningly similar sound met his ears, one that came from the hallway he knew Mhera was checking. The fact that he could_ see _the hole from where he stood caused him to pale slightly. As he stepped closer, he realized he was shaking with…fear, hoping against hope that his Mheralo was unharmed.

_**End of Flashback**_

Even though he discovered that she was unharmed, Marik shook as he remembered those moments, the tile in hand making and breaking contact with those fixed to the floor in a steady Morse Code-like rhythm.

_Why would that memory come now? _He thought with a bit of a frown. _Mheralo is fine; she left my office and went…went back to the upper corridors. _Marik's thoughts hesitated, something that did not sit well with him, along with having a bit of fear in the pit of his stomach.

_No. Oh please don't let me be right. No. _Marik was already heaving fearful breaths as he quickly covered the hole with the tile in his hand, and ran to the wall-switch staircase, slamming his boot urgently upon the switch, barely noting the wall slide to grant him entrance, nor slide back into place as he bolted up the stairs. He rested his hand on the wall-switch on his right, which returned the upper half of the staircase to their position as tiles on the floor above. Marik's other hand was clenched into a fist so hard that the color was slowly draining from it. He couldn't bear to think that she was in harm's way…because of him. If he would have just put Nashin in his place the first time himself rather than having Mhera do it for him, things would certainly be different four months later.

He should have seen this coming…he should have never considered that form, he should have just had Mhera read it, then he should have shredded it in front of her. But he hadn't. Leaning off the switch, both hands were soon at his side in the same pale fist. His breathing had slowed, more weighted than before as he stepped towards Mhera's room. His hand shook as it reached for the knob, his mind letting a useless last hope that Mhera was here pass through, that his hunch was wrong. But he knew as he opened the door far too slowly…that all his hopes were false.

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**DH:** Okay was it worth the wait? I hope so. I will be sticking with Marik the next couple of chapters, so hope that's okay. **Prompted Oneshots **will be updated next with a Jewelshipping anniversary shot. Please Review.


	9. Fated Paths

**DH: ***blows off the proverbial dust that has formed a layer due to the lack of updates* It's been quite a while since I have updated this…forgive me. Enjoy **Chapter Nine **of **Veracity: Fated Paths.**

**AN 2: **Mid-chapter name switch for Marik. References are made to **Chapter Thirty Six** of **Powers** **Revealed**, excluding the prologue.

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**Chapter Nine: Fated Paths**

The door slammed against the left wall. Marik growled; hot fury now overtaking the cold fear that had swept over him in the corridors. He passed over the steps without trouble, leaning on the left wall, seething at his own inattentiveness. When he found Noinreil Nashin, Marik vowed to crush him in every way imaginable save for pulverizing the life out of the insolent fool. After all, the boy was still held under results of a proposition; still useful to him.

He took two steps, his knees collapsing under him as he took a third. He grabbed onto the desk madly for support. His eyes narrowed icily on his cold reflection once he was on his feet again. The visage that met him seemed to express one thing. _You've always had everything and nothing. You are now far too close to having nothing, and only nothing._

He averted his eyes swiftly, the gaze of which widened as he caught sight of a dueling deck resting in the center of the desk. _Why would this be here?_ Marik mused, holding it in his hands as he attempted to ignore the knotting fear in his stomach. _Mheralo…I was under the impression that she had this with her. _He swiftly pocketed the deck, after which he found the desk chair, grateful as he took his seat. He slowly rubbed his right pointer finger against the thumb of the same hand in a circular motion. The pace of the action quickened with each repetition, in time with the myriad of questions now wrecking havoc on his mind.

_Where is she? There must be something here._ Marik massaged his temples, face bearing a neutral expression. _But what? _ He swiftly rummaged through the drawers of the desk before him, vainly hoping to find anything, absolutely anything that might hint at where his daughter could be. He clenched his left fist after the search was proven futile. What if he was overreacting? No; that most definitely was not the case. She was not here…she was still in the lower corridors, and in these circumstances, that perturbed him greatly. Marik realized he had yet to check her room within them, which he requested she use on numerous occasions.

_Mheralo has no need to use that room at this time…she's lucky if she can find her way there from my office without… assistance. _Marik's thoughts hesitated once more as the fear-produced knot settled further into his stomach. The thought wasn't mocking; it was actually far too accurate for his taste. If that room was his daughter's initial destination, it was highly likely Nashin had intercepted her there.

He stood, balling his fists. _She should feel safe within the lower corridors. If she ever does get lost within them…Mheralo-she …she should never be in a situation where I cannot find her. _He hove a heavy breath as he pushed the chair far enough for it to make contact with the desk, after which he swiftly exited the room. He retraced his steps, returning to the lower corridors; making a stop in his office to retrieve his cloak and nothing more. Marik concealed his daughter's deck in the left inner pocket of his cloak, opposite the one on the right in which he carried his own.

He pulled the hood to cover his distraught visage before entering the kitchen; he needn't have Raji Rejorahl worrying over him. He knew the kitchen hand was taxed enough as it were.

Raji was the only one within the lower corridors who possessed knowledge of his daughter, known to her as Arlomhe Sharti. If she saw Marik's face, she would surely fear that she unknowingly had a Freudian Slip of sorts. Courtesy of infrequently brief usurps of her mind, he knew Raji hadn't revealed any of the information he had imparted to her two years prior.

What surprised him further while simultaneously a relief; was that…she had yet to ask anything more of the matter. A further relief presented itself in the fact that he hadn't yet needed to make use of her availability to him in affairs concerning his daughter. He sighed softly, knowing that if there was a time to ignore the pride that made the statement true; this would be it. _Raji would be able to give me a better idea of where to find Nashin. He is her charge after all. _He stepped briskly into the kitchen as the thought ran through his mind.

"Sit." Raji commanded sternly as she placed a warm mug of coffee on the table. In normal circumstances she would not give orders to anyone, especially not her employer; even in this single situation, the sternness was a form of respect. With anyone else, Raji's behavior in a similar instance could be likened to that of a mother hen.

"I don't need it." Marik stated vehemently as he glared at the hot beverage, taking on his role as The R.H.

"You never pause before entering, nor do you allow me the first word." Raji argued. "You are not quite yourself."

"Tell me, Ms. Rejorahl; how can you be so certain of that based on those two factors alone?" Unseen to Raji, The R.H. cocked an eyebrow.

"Sir…those aren't the only factors." Raji sighed. "Your tone is defensive; that alone proves something is amiss. You are always prepared. Something has caught you unawares. "

"Just when did you become so apt at reading _subtleties_?" He accented the last, personally detested, word hotly.

"I have been told that I was very good at it from a young age, sir; you were not the first one to reveal that to me." To his surprise, Raji was quite calm, despite the heated tone this conversation had taken.

Reluctantly, The R.H. took a seat, and grasped the warm mug tightly in his hands. After all, it would be a shame to let the beverage go to waste. "Do you wish that I inform you whether you are correct?"

"No. You will tell me if you choose." Raji stated as she returned to her prior task. "I have no reason to incite a reaction from you in this matter, whatever it may be."

There was something that The R.H. admired about how Raji had sense when and when not to pry, and could use both flawlessly in a single conversation, as she had in this one. He had yet to grasp exactly why he found it so intriguing, but he was quite content with having something to ponder as he sipped at his coffee.

The R.H. was jostled from his thoughts as Raji set a small bowl of vegetable soup in front of him. "I assume you don't get many visitors." He stated, eyeing the soup with half-hearted curiosity.

"That is true, but it is not the reason you are here." She dried a freshly washed spoon, after which she placed it in the bowl in front of her employer. "You never go anywhere on a mere whim…you always have a purpose for the paths you take; whether they are seen or unseen." Raji's blue eyes did not betray her, blazing certainty as she continued. "The path you walk presently has led you to me. The reason has yet to reveal itself."

"How true, Ms. Rejorahl; you know me well." The R.H. drained the small bowl quickly, soon after setting the dishes aside.

"Actually, there is something I think you should know." Raji's voice was almost a whisper as she cleared the table.

"Go on then." The R.H. stated, intrigued. _Perhaps the reason for this path of which Raji spoke will soon reveal itself._

"Forgive me for asking this, but…are there corridors at a lower level than these?" The R.H. merely nodded in confirmation, permitting Raji to continue. "I feel that you should be aware that I once followed Noinreil through them for a short distance, almost getting myself lost. The one about four inches taller than you…who delivers your notes to me…he stopped me from going farther, and brought me back here." Raji then paused, perplexed. "He told me his name then as well…but I can't quite remember it at the moment."

"Have you seen him recently? The one who delivers my notes?" The R.H. quickly clarified; thankful the hood covered his quickly paling face. _The corridors below these are not as well kept as these or the ones above them; they aren't even kept at all. The reason why is simple; I never use them. Because those corridors are …truly underground. _The thought of his daughter being anywhere subterranean terrified him far more than his own sharp memories of that same manner of entrapment he suffered through his childhood. He was thankful that Raji's voice halted his thoughts.

"Yes, sir; I saw him just this morning. He said he was planning to run an errand or two in the nearby city, and offered to add restocking on ingredients to whatever tasks he would be doing." Raji stated almost guiltily.

"Thank you… for the availability you continually offered that I perhaps may have been too prideful to accept until now." The R.H. forcibly stated, making an exit.

"What availability do you speak of, sir?" Raji asked softly, gasping as The R.H. turned to her letting the hood that covered his visage fall to his shoulders. Only upon the sight of her employer's distraught, ashen face did Raji completely remember the events of that morning two years ago. "This concerns your daughter…" Raji stated weakly as she started to shake, no doubt attempting to remember if she was ever careless with the information.

"Yes." The man who stood before her now turned away, gazing at the door rather than her. "I know that you did not reveal anything. You should know that as well; seeing as you know how…promptly I deal with those instances." The R.H.'s voice held its natural edge amidst the fearful undertones that were present simply due to the circumstances, a factor which slightly intimidated Raji.

"How can I help?" Raji asked.

"You needn't get involved in this anymore than you already have, Ms, Rejorahl." The R.H. stated tersely. "But if you feel it necessary to aid me, you may do this."

"What is it that you would want from me?" Raji whispered.

"Odion is the one who brought you back from those corridors…when he returns…send him that way. That is what I request of you, Ms. Rejorahl." He briskly exited the room.

"What about you?" Raji called, but it was futile as The R.H. was already out of earshot. Though she was unaware of where her employer was headed, she was certain that he was aware of the path he was taking.

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**DH: **I hope the name switch wasn't too terribly confusing; it was a necessary thing. Please Review.


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